


Maiden of Despair - Diablo

by MaroonRune



Category: Diablo (Video Game), Diablo Series - Richard A. Knaak
Genre: Based on Demon Hunter, Before the Nephalem had right to power, Blood shard, Charahza, Demons, Despair, F/M, Handmaid - Freeform, Hatred, Lilith - Freeform, Lucion - Freeform, Lust, Nightmare, Original Character(s), Short, Sister and brother, Soul Stone, The Triune, Worldstone, angel - Freeform, birthright, mephisto - Freeform, scheherazade - Freeform, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-10-02 04:59:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17258009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonRune/pseuds/MaroonRune
Summary: Set in Blizzard's Diablo universe, read through a short ten-part story about a young handmaid struggling to find out why the people around grow to despise her very presence.It takes place soon after the creation of the Triune, where demons seek control of humanity while they are locked from power, but the Prime Evils have plans to bypass the Worldstone's laws forbidding the nephalems' birthright.(Inspired by the official book Birthright, and meant to take place around 50 years before that series.)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part to Charahza's story, a young girl who finds herself in a world surrounded by hate. When she believes herself in a position of better fortune, everything is not as it seems. Someone enforces change, and it is change that shouldn't be allowed concerning the laws of the world in this point of time. You may need to know a little lore to understand what is going on. Some things may also be a little twisted for the sake of being able to write anything freely, so it might contradict canon.
> 
> Part of the story is somewhat inspired by One Thousand and One Nights, where the main character, Scheherazade, becomes queen to a king that would behead each of his "unloyal" wives, but he comes to find out he is deeply in love and doesn't kill her. 
> 
> \+ Don't expect a full-on legit demon hunter that we know and love though. She's somethin' else.
> 
> \+ Here is a link to the cover, since the fan fiction was first posted on Wattpad requiring a cover: https://maroonrune.tumblr.com/image/181591164663
> 
> \+ I don't mean to keep you longer, but I'd also like to share probably the most inspiring thing to me for even writing this fan fiction. It's a song by one of my favorite bands. ALSO, hence the song title, my favorite Lord of Hell is Mephisto. **(Link is below.)**
> 
> https://youtu.be/4OAlKS6sCQo

Dead leaves blanketed the ground, the naked trees casting their black tendrils for shadows upon it. Within a small camp and fur tent, a casual man beheld his wife's labor, pulling her through with birthing two children. Behind him was a group of others donning red robes, waiting in silence. When the woman finished, she fell into an unconscious state, but the men did not pay any attention to her.

"Rest, my dear. Rest." He cleaned and held the children, wrapped in bloodied cloth. The young son screamed, its first cries echoing throughout the frigid woodland. However, the daughter remained silent. It was an abnormal reaction, but the father seemed to smile as if it was the most perfect sign.

Glancing at one in scarlet, a man shrouding himself with mystery and a hood, the father noticed a hand held out. It was not for the taking, in the palm instead a small onyx crystal. He placed the children onto a blanket and grabbed the item. He turned to his gentle daughter, so peaceful in her state that her father nearly considered his next action the wrong one to do. But as he looked back at the men around him, their unchanging stares warned a death-found omen.

One of the robed men announced in a contrasting voice, their tone pleasant and soft. "She is the one, acolyte. You know what must be done. For the sake of protecting mankind. It won't harm her... It will strengthen her."

The father rubbed at his newborns' cheeks with his index finger. They were his, and rightfully. But he agreed to the Triune's suggestion, and as the strange crystal lay within his grasp, it mocked him with a sudden, yet subtle, pulse of light. If this dark shard from the depths of their world belonged to something so pure, its surface denied any possible truth.

He hesitated, forgetting to breathe as sweat beaded on his ragged scalp. How would his wife feel if something went wrong? She could never forgive him, nonetheless himself. But he served the Triune, and their will be done if they so believed it best for human survival.

Tugging at the child's wraps, he positioned the crystal on her exposed chest and drew a blade from his belt. The silver poked at her skin, but it refused to cut. The father pressed forward, but he could not pierce. The other members of the Triune grew impatient, their high stature pressuring him.

The man to the right growled and held tight onto the father's wrist. "Allow me, if you cannot do a simple task." The father continued to smile, though his eyes angled in uncertainty.

The dagger was guided in and back, a quick startling incision. The child kept silent despite streams of blood trickling down.

Her father pressed the stone into her chest, leaving it just below the very surface of the skin. More red flowed from the wound. "I must hurry with the stitch, or she will die." He rushed up, but was obstructed by a halting hand.

"No. Watch."

The four put their gaze to the offspring. Somehow, her skin began to creep over. When the seams merged, the injury healed anew and the process complete. The occurrence left the father dumbfounded. "It really is. It is? A miracle. A gift! How can such a thing exist?"

The men ushered the father outside the tent with pats of a job well done. His courage overwhelmed him to the point of laughter. If only he could tell the whole world of his duty. Of his achievement! If not for him and his involvement with the Triune, would he not be their savior?

"When she grows up, she will make a fine heroine," one said. "People will see."

The father sat down on a fallen tree, exhaling with relief. "What shall I do now?"

"You've done your work. Though, I have some unfortunate news, acolyte." The hooded man darkened his tone and his eyes changed to a frightening red. His voice was unsettling and sounded with falsified guilt. "We have no need of you anymore."

Taken aback, he shuddered and chuckled. "What?"

But before he could speak anymore or run for his soul, a sword ran through. As it pulled out, the member of the Triune turned to the others. "Leave them, but bury him. Our plans will unfold in the times to come."


	2. Town of Habbah

"Charahza," a young boy pulled at her tattered shirt. "What are you doing? Leave, before they find you." His blonde hair darkened his hazel eyes, trying to avoid looking like he was communicating with his twin sister. Charahza would not move from behind a market stand.

Fruit juice dripped from her lips as her nails dug into cool flesh, starvation pushing her to whatever actions were necessary for survival. "I don't care." She chomped into one after the other, swallowing hard the pieces each time without paying any attention to Bertram.

Her brother tugged again, but sighed as the initially oblivious owner neared them from down the dirt street of Habbah. "Come now, sister. Or you'll get in trouble. They'll imprison you or even kill you if you don't--"

Dropping the food, she took groups of examples without a bite in her malnourished arms. Charahza leaped up and headed for cover in a swift dusty dash. The stand's owner froze for a second at the sight of her guilty presence. "The monster!" The word echoed about the wind, making others around have dread upon their faces.

Her brother turned tail and strode in the other direction, careful not to seem part of her shenanigans. As Charahza jumped over rocks and evaded the common folk, two guards with short-swords made a path straight for the thief. The village's edge came into view, indicated by a small bridge stretching over a river. On the other side were few autumn-red trees, shadowing a trail used mainly by merchants on a journey to the vast city Ureh.

Standing upon the stones of the bridge, Charahza faced her pursuers with utmost confidence. Their leather boots still sprinted towards her, yet before they could get any closer, she released the captive fruit. The men tumbled over, their knees scraping the ground and weapons clanking against it. Chuckling, Charahza watched them struggle to get back to their feet. To her surprise, one made a lunge for her legs.

The move caught her in a slow realization, the guard pushing her off and into the water below. The warm liquid flooded her nostrils and into her suffocating lungs. Her hands reached for the surface, and soon enough, she could breathe for the moment. A quick glimpse of the laughing guards above shot heated blood through her veins, but the river's current forced her head under once more. Before her surroundings darkened by the plunge, the guards amplified as if they could tell their mockery enraged her.

A figure ceased Charahza's drowning trek and yanked her out into the air, dragging her choking self onto a patch of dry grass and straw. When her chest emptied and she could speak, Bertram swept the damp dark hair from her eyes. The siblings were well away from the town now--a three minute walk back along the bank.

"Charahza. You mindless fool." Bertram shook his head, whether it be at her appearance or the insane actions just performed by the most hated girl in all of Kehjan. Of course, it was only the local towns that knew of her existence. There wasn't much in the region to live off of for a lone person, a child nonetheless, so she had no choice to create havoc.

Charahza and Bertram were orphans, abandoned by their mother at the age of four. Forced into a conflict of famine and hardship, they had to fight their own way into a better life, for many agreed not to take them as their own. It was still the same, even after a woman finally began to take care of the siblings.

She had expressed mischief--a threat to various people she could not stand--to which her adopted mother refused to tolerate. As a result, she threw Charahza into the wilderness, separating her from Bertram. Though, in all the attempts at helping her sustain, her iron will ensured that she could get away with trouble.

Rubbing water from her reddened eyes, she did her best to not make eye contact. "If only someone would help me, I wouldn't have to steal from them." Gazing upon Bertram's outfit, noticeably clean and more than the average price, it only added to her frustration. "Where do you get this, brother? While I just sit here in the scratchy grass, muddying my bottom without a care what happens to my clothes."

Bertram lifted her with the lending of a hand and dusted off what he could of the wet earth. The shelter of the trees tempted her to run away, but he grabbed her shoulders. "Listen! There is refuge."

She thrusted away, trying not to hear another word. There was no way anyone would take her, whether they said so or not. "They'd soon learn it a mistake." His grasp tightened so a slight pain ached at her thin muscles. "I will die before I am taken. They probably wish to see me burned alive. A fake invitation. A false acceptance!"

He hushed her. "Charahza! Please, you need to believe me this time." How could she after three former times of being allowed into a family secretly desiring her death? Too many times occurred where she'd find an axe or sickle at her throat.

Huffing at Bertram's disgruntled face, her pumpkin-hued eyes met his. She could do anything she ever wanted in a sense, but her brother--being the only one to care--wouldn't allow the rebellious feelings to last forever. He was the small light in her life that could make a difference.

Charahza folded her arms and frowned, letting all possible hopes stay at the end of the line. "Fine. Tell me. Tell me of my future home." 

"It's where I belong. And you too! They look to aid people like us. Like you." His smile relaxed the pain inside, but her countenance remained unchanged. He pointed towards the distant beige misshapen pyramids for mountains to the west of Habbah. "See there? On the other side is the Grand Temple of the Triune. It would take us around five days, as it did on horseback." Then, he brought their attention to the over-sized stream. "This flows right to the major river moving through the mountains. We follow it all the time."

He wasn't suggesting a family, he was suggesting an order of religious people. Charahza had never really heard of the Triune before, but to her, the name was even greater news. Parents or adults had too much on their hands to take in an extra child. Charahza and Bertram were reaching the age of adolescence. Sooner or later they'd become ones themselves. Unless death found her first. But a temple of all things would make her depend on their ways, and their beliefs would be the deciding factor of her fate.

"As a matter of fact, I am an acolyte there. Under the Order of Dialon. That's why I've been searching for you for the past year. I continuously hear of your wrongdoings and helpless manners, but that will change if you come with me." Bertram found himself without anymore to say, but Charahza had nothing at all. Her endless strife could find relief if she joined them. Even if she tried, and all came to failure, there was absolutely nothing to lose but her life. Then again, she nearly had one.

Charahza hugged her brother, who was quick to do so too. The siblings parted at the sound of footsteps and hooves from behind. The people of Habbah wouldn't go as far as to hunt her down, would they?

"Acolyte Bertram," a man in black and red robes announced, sitting on the back of a quiet steed. "Is this the girl you offer?"

He nodded at his superior and carefully urged Charahza on. "Don't worry, sister. Just a harmless term. They mean well."

The group wore the same outfits, but few donned their large hoods. Each were decorated with strange symbols, black runes lining the seams. Compared to the villagers, there was nothing that could match their high status of possible finance and present finesse.

Her brother's particular word finally struck nervous curiosity. "I am being  _offered_  to them?"

"I am High Priest Kaveh, a cleric of the Triune. We're still fairly new to the world, but I can assure you we are much more  _welcoming_ than any other." Seemingly in the lead, he allowed her a hand and smiled. His medium-length ginger hair twisted in the light breeze, revealing a small scar on his forehead. Olive eyes dared not leave hers, as if he searched for her reaction before it could happen. He was much older by the subtle wrinkles near his eyes and the bulk around his torso.

All of this somehow comforted Charahza, as if he could become the father-figure never before possessed. She wanted to think about the choice, but what else was there to do? Without a doubt, her palm found his. Pulling her atop the horse was like holding her up to the sun.

She scrubbed mud off of her cheek. However, it was tears that she wiped with the back of her hand. Noticing her ecstatic sorrow, Bertram assisted with a tear as well. "You don't have to suffer anymore, Charahza. You can finally live. Be grateful and praise the Spirits. I'll meet you in a week when I finish my duty here in Habbah. I promise."

The Triune exchanged nods, then on black steeds they charged for the city of Kehjan. There, Charahza would begin a new life.


	3. Jabari

The High Priest of Dialon strained to understand the mistake, made by his underling who dropped trays of food. "You are to be my handmaid, young Charahza. And if you are to sleep and eat, you must be able to keep a steady hand and a steady posture. For two years, you've tried. Two years. Go and get it again." He gestured with a shooing motion.

Charahza hurried out the temple's doors to a grand view of sandy mountains, trees and the gleaming afternoon sun. On a small platform extending from the third level, she relaxed for the time being. Sighing, she knew she'd have to return with a rag to clean the mess and go for a replacement. The world had gifted her a better life, but it was nowhere near perfect.

To her right ascended Kaveh, the only man to have ever treated her with fatherly kindness. "You look distraught and tired today. Another incident?"

A slight grin arched from the corner of her mouth before falling to a frown. "Yes," was all she could muster as she checked her dress for remnants of food. Nothing stained the delicate red cloth, like so many other mishaps. The blackened crimson corset around her body seemed a bit off, but its knotted strings would manage for the day. None of the high priests tended to notice small issues as such unless something was on backwards.

"Today is an interesting day for the Triune. Have you heard?" Kaveh followed Charahza back to the temple entrance, his ornate rust cloak swaying side to side. Turning to face him before opening the doors, his emeralds for eyes lit up in realizing her sudden interest. Though, the sensation had been a feeling of dread.

Checking her dress one last time, she groaned, "Hopefully something that will ease the work put on me? The other High Priests really know how to test my patience. They act like kings of the land."

Kaveh laughed and consoled via her shoulder. "It isn't often they deal with handmaids, or women for that matter. Most of their business is constituted by men of either battle or those more attuned to faith. You're one of the first, so it shouldn't be a surprise they push you around."

_I am one of the first handmaids? I haven't seen a single woman enter the temple._

Upon entering and passing statues of charging rams, Kaveh and Charahza slowed their pace. The High Priest of Mefis opened his mouth to explain today's occasion, but the hissing voice of High Priest Jabari forced all others into a long silence.

"She refuses to listen. Refuses to see the light. To see what redemption it gives her! I cannot afford anymore counseling for her sake if it means wasted time. Wasted efforts by both her and I. I want her gone." Jabari glanced around a pillar to send Charahza a stare of death, but continued to whisper to whoever else stood behind it.

An obscured figure of average height stuck to the darkest side of the room, next to a small door never before seen in the years she provided service. By its location, it must have connected to the major sanctum or a tower.

_He wishes for my leave! The nerve of this old sod. He'd make me crawl through the sands or drown in the ocean for my flaws._

"Nonsense," came from the young man, smooth assurance in his tone. "You've dealt with her this long, High Priest. Give her time." He paused for a moment and their attention moved to Kaveh. "Relay the news to him. I won't be having a hearing today." Then like a shadow, he exited without another sound.

Charahza kneeled before the exasperated Jabari, who couldn't stand to look at her. "Handmaid Charahza, you are lucky that we have one so charismatic as the Primus. He had your brother clean your  _problem_  for you. Do you know how embarrassing it is for our leader to arrive to that kind of predicament after a few years of absence?" Motioning her to rise, and with an odd transitioning of emotion, he grinned at Kaveh. "My friend, Kaveh! The light has shown us the way today. We seem to plan the expansion of our orders."

Kaveh had no reaction to Jabari's play on power for words. Charahza was sure he'd have said something, yet in maintaining an expression of satisfactory, he only had their common interests in mind. "Undoubtedly. Shall you elaborate?"

There was no way she'd stay still to hear them talk about their faith. Even if she believed in it, it didn't change the fact that she had somewhere to live. These beautiful walls were good enough for hiding, rather than sleeping in the dust far from shelter. If only the ones preaching could gain her fondness.

The temple doors cracked open, letting in temporary beams. Bertram found his sister across the hall. "Charahza, there you are." With swift grace, he pushed a piece of bread into her hands. She hadn't eaten anything since early morning, Jabari demanding errands before sunrise and well after.

She pecked him on the cheek. "Thank you, brother.  _Someone_ cares about me." Glancing at fatherly Kaveh, he never bothered to notice her in the presence of other Triune members, having the same mindless expression. When thinking about it, a surge of brief pain erupted from her heart.

Normally it'd put tears in her eyes, but it was irking--an uncontrollable rage pulsing through her veins. As she chewed on the loaf, it soothed little of the feeling.

Bertram was about to leave, but something in his motion yanked him around. "Ah, I almost forgot. The Primus wishes you to see him. Don't let Jabari know."

Her heart stopped at the words, as well as the gregarious nibbling. "For what reason?" She nearly choked on a slow piece sliding down her throat.

He shrugged. "You will need to find out."

_* _*_ *______* _*_ *_

The handmaid shivered before the Primus, who let his observant eyes wander in wonderment. Three triangular bodies of light illuminated the floor from windows high above a set of bronze doors, separating the only two within the sanctum. Lifting a hand, he gestured for her to rise.

"I pray this meeting does not frighten you. It is a simple matter to which I have asked for your presence." Walking backwards, he found the seat upon the throne and put his fingers together.

Long silver hair stringed down his shoulders, connecting to a robed body of stone-cloth and a pale head. Charahza refused to look into his eyes, though a subtle glimpse of green or teal could be seen in the corner of her sight.

"Y-yes, Primus." She toyed with her pine-bark hair, and wouldn't stop glancing at the exit.

"I hear Jabari is frustrated with you. Perhaps his requests are becoming too much. I'm surprised that you haven't left yet out of sheer misery."

"Yes... But I try! I try so hard... I don't mean to--"

He silenced her with a flat palm. "There is no need. So I am going to move you. Instead of the Order of Dialon, you will serve the Order of Bala. Their manners  _may_ seem more... appreciative."

Charahza nodded in relief.

_I can finally get away from Jabari! I also can't wait to see the look on his face when he realizes I'm working for another. Show him his teachings need improvement..._

"Go to him now. High Priest Jabari will understand."


	4. Charahza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She seems like a simple woman that just wants to live and do what she wants... but of course, there's more to it. The high priest's reasons for being mad at her may be silly, but that isn't the point. Her struggles are simple and a bit confusing, but no one understands why it is happening.

Five nights had passed, and Charahza began to regret transitioning from the Order of Dialon. Many Bala acolytes thought it amusing to have a woman clean and cook for more than twenty men, often chuckling with each other as she walked by. Some had the will to joke about women as a whole, saying they were the tools of creation. There had been nothing to appreciate.

Tonight would give respite in their absence, the entire order supposedly on a short trip for a two-day distance of a town. But it was late at night, and she was still required to scrub the floors of the temple for one last duty.

The doors swung open and old Jabari charged inside. "Handmaid Charahza. You complained to the Primus, didn't you? Or was it that brother of yours?"

"I don't know what you mean." Her arm ached as she cleaned the floor harder.

"Don't lie to me, child. You know very well what I mean. You no longer serve me, and it was all somehow under the Primus's accordance." Spit flew from his mouth.

Charahza glared at him, ceasing the circling of the rag. "It wasn't me who forced it. It was his idea."

Shaking a finger, he stomped towards her. "Your brother. Your brother must have been the one. And if not, I know the Primus would never see reason to move one of your...  _status_! You're as low as a farmer. Weak. Poor. Worthless."

She threw the rag at his wrinkled face. "You'd call a farmer such things when you just sit there, contemplating the world and how it will follow your order? Without them, you'd starve. You're weak for depending on one like me."

The words infuriated him to the point of speechlessness. Marching back to the doors, he ensured they slammed, sending through the emptiness a wave of echoes.

Picking up her dress with one hand, she made a path for the entrance and with the other hand threw the soaked material across the room.

Into the cool quiet night with a small lit candlestick, Charahza sought the corners of the temple for the frustrated man. She'd yell for him to leave her alone, but he was nowhere to be seen.

A distant hum reached her ears. With what sounded like the wind, a light whisper sent chills down her spine. As it came and gone, the thought of a ghost urged her to take a step back. No soul occupied the vicinity but her, and if it had truly been a simple breeze--the still air held sign of nothing.

Chatter came from her right, leaving her relieved with the idea it was only a trick of the mind. Looking past a support column, a group of acolytes exited the temple. She could never figure out where they would go so late in the day until now, but what was there to do? Rare could she experience their duties. Her own ensured that most of the time she remained in doors or next to a high priest.

Curious, she waited until they found the dry ground. As the last of their padded feet ceased scratching upon the delicate stone steps, Charahza followed.

Down the three levels of ninety-nine stairs, she slowly descended. Instead of heading for the guarded walls surrounding the place, the men took a turn. Peering over, their trail ended before a separated acolyte.

A quick dash and she hid behind an archway. Now, she could make out their conversation.

"Why have I been summoned here?" The lone man's voice was Bertram's.

A stern response erupted from the group. "As a member of the Triune, you must remain loyal and exercise our principles. Have you not?"

"Of course, I have! I respect the order. What have I done wrong?"

"Nonetheless, High Priest Jabari wishes to see you. You will come with us."

They took his arms, and he tried to jerk away. "I've done nothing wrong! Won't someone tell me?" He received no answer, and their path aimed back for the temple's top. Before they could get any closer, Charahza ran for it as well.

Her heart pumped fast, and not because of her race with the acolytes. Would Jabari go so far as to punish Bertram over an accusation? And all over her leaving his service. The old man didn't know how to be generous or understanding of the human heart as all should be. He was the one violating their principles, not her brother.

Trying to calm down, she rested for a moment. She needed a guise to mask her frantic and angered behavior. A broom, yes--a broom. With it in her shaking hands, she made the bristles kick up dust until the men passed her. Not one paid any attention to her, except for a quick distraught glance from Bertram.

Before one of the bronze doors--the tallest in all of the temple--could close, she caught it to peek through. Inside was a dimly lit chamber, one that didn't belong to Jabari. She wasn't allowed to see, yet as she did without shame, the only objects noticeable in the dark were hundreds of candles. But as her eyes strained to find Jabari or her brother, a hand grabbed at her shoulder.

Internally, she screamed, and her wide embers for eyes met those of a gentle teal's. The Primus pulled the door, and Charahza panicked to find an explanation. "Oh! I am so sorry, I saw my brother. I wanted to tell him good night, but he--"

"He will understand if he doesn't receive blessing from his sister for once. But this chamber is only for those like him unless invited. You can find him tomorrow." His calm smile somewhat soothed her troubles, but she shook her head at him.

"I'm not so sure--he's hard to find anymore. Jabari--Jabari is angry with him, because he thinks it was Bertram that got me to change orders."

The Primus turned her away from the temple with a nodding gesture. When they stopped at the edge of the stairs, he faced her. "Jabari wasn't always a high priest. There was another before him. He taught the ways of Dialon, and Jabari followed precisely. He may seem like a terrible man, but see that he only performs in a way like his master. Teacher. He knows well the code of the Triune, and knows very well to be kind where he sees it just. His actions are only a form of encouragement--determination--as the Spirit of Dialon is meant to be. Do not worry for your brother."

A sigh exhaled through Charahza's nose, but her fingers fiddled. "You are right, Primus. I just care about Bertram so much. He's all that I have left in this world."

He held out a hand for her to take. "You have the Triune."


	5. The Primus

A triangular shape casted not a shadow, but light, upon the glaring face of the Primus. Within his empty sanctum of the temple, he dared to look towards the blinding sun. He did not have concern for the time of day however, for there was one particular soul distracting his thoughts.

The temple's handmaid radiated ominous energy like no other. He could sense something pulling at her, as if whatever embodied the ebon fires in those eyes grasped back at the darkness surrounding her. The tension between her and the high priests seemed obvious. There was nothing else in this world that could show her desire to rebel more.

The word invoked thoughts of his sister, his only sibling to have ever created a perfect example of insurgency. The Primus would never defy his father. In fact, the Triune is a prime result of his loyalty, and they are the harbingers of humanity's  _true_  salvation. It is up to him whether their goal succeeds, yet for the short time they've existed, it has always been so easy to manipulate mankind.

Charahza on the other hand had complexity. Her existence added a piece to a puzzle he once thought minuscule and simple. The young acolyte Bertram merely asked that his sister be given a life, but the Primus never expected one with a strong will to find her way here.

_Perhaps it is normal. One of these days, her anger will subside, and I will realize my apprehension had been for nothing. Last night was almost a mistake for her. But I could see it in her face. Sense the hatred blazing deep into her soul. I doubt she's part of the plan, or I'd have been informed..._

Sitting upon the throne, he pondered in silence. The doors intrigued his mind for a place of rest, until they swung open. The three high priests hurried down the hall and bowed, then Jabari stood before the others with an infuriating shake.

"That woman is ruining us, Primus! A woman that doesn't know how to be mindful of the ones she serves!" Jabari clenched his fist at the entrance, as if the handmaid stood there. "I no longer have the nerve to withstand her on our grounds."

The High Priest of Bala, Aviram, managed a long frown as his brows tightened. "Even I cannot, and Jabari has had her under his order longer! She refuses to mend my robe. And now she refuses to feed our acolytes until... something about her brother--she said something about her brother."

High Priest Kaveh huffed at their overreactions. "Her brother went missing. You expect her to work under such stress?" He turned from the fools, their countenance seeming almost laughable to the Primus struggling to contain the humor. "I ask that you don't punish or abandon her, Primus. Doing so will only ruin our reputation."

"Not if it's punishment kept within these walls," Aviram snapped.

The Primus slapped his hands together to hush the men. "We will not punish or abandon anyone. If it is anything among our Grand Temple that will ruin it, it will be you two." He pointed his glaring eyes at Aviram and Jabari, then stood over them. "You would sacrifice your oath to the light for the riddance of a plain woman? Perhaps your masters' teachings weren't enough. Or... perhaps your deluded minds weren't strong enough to learn. You have your duties as a high priest. One who wouldn't fall to the likes of a servant. Am I wrong?"

They trembled in his darkening presence, the Primus's cold stare piercing through their hearts. Nodding, their guilty gazes found the floor. As they spoke, he was pleased to hear their sudden change of tone; slow and apologetic. "No. You're not wrong, Primus."

"Leave me," he sighed before sitting back in his regal seat. "Kaveh, fetch me the handmaid. I believe I have a solution. She won't be dealing with  _them_ anymore."

Kaveh grinned as his brothers departed from the room. "Are you so sure?" Beginning to leave, he chuckled.

Was he? Not entirely. If it meant his high priests could return to managing the orders in peace, even without one to maintain their basic needs, the move would be worth it. The Triune has been too distracted with unnecessary bickering.

The handmaid and Kaveh approached the Primus. Her distraught gestures and stomping down the hall didn't surprise him, like with the mysterious taking of an acolyte before dawn. Tears streamed down her red cheeks, and her dark hair strung all over. "Where is my brother?"

"I do not know of your brother's whereabouts." Trying to add on quickly so he could resolve everything, his mouth awed, but was interrupted with another demanding question.

"I don't care what happens to me. All I want to know is what happened to him! And you  _should_  know, because you're the one in charge of this place! Unless you let the high priests rule you, too. But you saw him. I saw him. He was taken here, but no one will tell me why and where he is now! Won't you tell me?"

The Primus lowered a hand to indicate she should calm down, but her wrathful demeanor would not alter. Without effort in letting the rage affect him, he remained cool. "I  _am_  their leader, and they listen to me. But I had  _nothing_  to do with his disappearance."

In all honesty, he didn't. His high priests had been particularly unfaithful as of late, so it isn't shocking to know they had done something without permission. Like him, they enjoyed the power of authority, but it could never compare. They were still under him, and that's how it was meant to be. Though, their sources of influence might say  _otherwise_.

Still, the woman's fury acted as intriguing as the degrading of his subordinates. He'd seen other females before--few overpowering and some afraid to act--but none like this one. The Triune's position should be pushing her into a dedicating submission, not the opposite. Again, part of the failure of the high priests. They were the first set of  _real_  men to be taking the role, but their resilience decrease with every passing year.

She swallowed and bit her lip hard. "It has to be High Priest Jabari. He's done something to Bertram." Though her glossy eyes searched in the Primus's to encourage a response, it took a moment for him to find a word as he paid the sorrow no mind. The look on her face screamed the will to murder, and for a second, it disturbed the Primus. "In all the time I've lived here, I haven't been living for myself. I've been living for my brother. For the other members. For the high priests. For you, Primus. Please. You must do something. Who are these men if they won't be true to you?"

_Such a pathetic mess this is! I could easily get rid of the problem by executing her. One missing acolyte, probably lying dead beneath the very ground of this place, won't hinder the Triune. One missing high priest could potentially be disastrous. There'd be lack of organization, and others might put the blame on me. We can't risk mutiny and the faithful to be undone. I must kill her._

Looking to Kaveh, who has continued to keep the same face from when he found whatever it was amusing, the Primus nodded for him to be dismissed. The handmaid watched in dumbfounded distress as he bowed and left, falling to her knees at the probable feeling of abandonment. Noticing the two's relationship from the beginning, Kaveh showed signs of being like a father to her. Now, change presented itself in the way he barely communicated with the young female for a daughter. Their bridge burned a long time ago, and the Primus knew this, for Kaveh had been his favorite high priest--the one he thought  _best_  influenced under the Spirit of Mefis.

The woman sobbed underneath the shade of her hair. All he saw before him was a manifestation of despair and ire. With everyone gone from the hall, he could enact the ending of her life in secret. When the deed be done, balance would be restored and their work of inspiring mankind could resume. However, his thoughts from before blocked him from any further action.

As her tears slapped the floor, something amiss about her caught his curiosity. Her aura held an unknown essence, as if a real spirit clung to her soul. Straining to tell whether it was of darkness or light, he drew closer to the woman.

He placed down another foot but couldn't move again as she somehow jumped to his height with incredible speed. Her hands wrapped around his neck, but her struggle proved futile as they were held in place within his own grip.

"Do you not think yourself so naïve?" he hissed. "I  _will_  help you. But you have to cooperate."

The handmaid gritted her teeth, topaz eyes never moving away from his stare."You will execute Jabari?" 

"No. That's too risky. But if I am to aid you, you will need to serve me."

An immediate look of disgust spread across her face. "I will not serve anyone. I just want my brother back." Yanking herself from him, she found a column to lean against.

"It is the only way to ensure my men don't do anything impetuous. That way, the Triune stays whole, and you aren't dead. If you are  _my_ personal handmaid, no one will think it's a good idea to slit your throat. Even Jabari will know that. If he tries, I'll have every right to state his betrayal. The others will understand that he is the one at fault, which is precisely what we need to happen." He exhaled a long breath before sitting in his seat.

She faced him from the bottom of the throne's platform, nodding in reluctant accordance.

_And all because I wish to keep her alive for the sake of my own knowledge. Why her, and why has she been brought to me? If it wasn't for that, I'd slay her where she stands._


	6. The Thin Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title's name, in my case, refers to one of my favorite Iron Maiden songs: the thin line between love and hate. It's a fun little pun...

Sometimes strange men would visit the Grand Temple, their veiled faces lingering in Charahza's mind with heavy thoughts of death looming about until their figures were small and far from the outer walls. Being in the Primus's presence, they couldn't allow any of their chatter to be within hearing distance of her. But it did not matter what the Triune devised. Her brother held the most importance, so much that she decided not to sleep for at least two days. One anxious night already passed, and the next followed within the upcoming hour.

The high priests expected the girl to be doomed, finding it hard to believe the Primus allowed her to live or stay on their property. Now that she served him, never did she fail to complete simple tasks. With a streak of what they considered luck, they could only assume everything she had done for them was on purpose. Charahza denies it every time the subject is brought up, yet they mock and turn her words against her. If only they'd admit the fact they were the cause of all their problems.

The Primus caught Charahza staring off into space, intervening with a gentle hand upon her shoulder. Looking up at his handsomely casual and courteous grin--which was the most apparent feature in the flickering light of a red candle--she could tell that he pitied her. He lowered it next to her, a soft breath at her ear. "I may know where your brother is, but Jabari's acolytes are on patrol and hiding in the shadows outside."

The fact that Bertram could be anywhere on temple grounds rendered great news, upstarting Charahza's alertness. "Where? I'll do anything." As he shushed her, she changed to a hissing whisper. "Sorry... Please, tell me. I'd risk everything for him."

His smile arched for a second on one side, then quickly released it to show a frown. Stepping away from his handmaid, he placed a disconcerting hand around his chin. Silent, the Primus trekked a few steps around the sanctum hall. "It will be difficult without an acolyte's robe."

Charahza shrugged. "Find me one."

"There has ever been enough for each man. And neither I can obtain without raising suspicion." He faced the throne for a long and thoughtful stare. After a minute of thinking, he exhaled at a solution. "I know."

The handmaid couldn't react in time to what the Primus started. As he removed his own clothing, fitted with elegant gray silk, red markings, gold trim and decorative chains connecting to beautiful sapphire gems, Charahza gawked at his thin form. For the moment, she was in full belief that he was completely exposed, but only because of a white tunic reflecting moonlight.

He pushed the outfit into her hands. "The hood will hide your face."

She held onto it, seemingly lighter than her dress. However, her heart ached and pulled down on her chest. Something inside scratched at it. It had been swallowed whole by an unknown emotion, and now was trying to escape. Her mind fell on a sudden urge--an unholy craving.

He spoke empty words to her, and though none of the doors were open, a breeze chilled her skin. The familiar sound of whispers forced her to the floor with a startled heart, but her vision darkened.

 _Awaken,_ commanded two voices, masculine and feminine.  _Awaken your sin!_

Charahza inhaled a deep breath and regained control of her senses. Looking around for the Primus, she found only the bare room. Yet, peering down was most of her outfit undone. Embarrassment set in and she hurried for the Primus's robe at the tip of her toes. From behind her, it was as if a man feeling threatened by the situation managed his volume and kept his distance.

The Primus's question echoed throughout the hall, stunning Charahza in its suggestion. "Are you here on my  _sister's_  behalf, so she can take my place?"

It was obvious that her strange actions caused him alarm, but how ever could it bring him to such assumptions? "What do you mean? What happened?"

Pointing to the area just below her neck, he stated, "You have a peculiar  _scar_. Never mind that. Are you alright?" Getting to her feet alone, his eyes glanced away.

She covered herself with the robe and rushed to a support beam to get it on. "I'm s-sorry, Primus. I don't know what came over me. I'll see myself out once I've dressed."

His footsteps drew near, stopping as he leaned against the column on the other side. " _Hope_  isn't the only thing that drives you, is it? Perhaps it doesn't at all..." His silver hair casted an intense shadow on her, blocking any light from the surrounding sources. "You're afraid." His tone changed to a grumble, just ominous enough to be considered perplexing and minacious. "You're afraid you will have to kill someone, even if you may desire it more than anything. You're afraid to find your brother dead, adding to your ever growing anguish. And it leaves you in an endless trap--a state of despair that you find hard to get out of. All you feel is pain. And hatred. That is what drives you to be stronger. I see now.It is nothing to be afraid of."

Sealing the chain belt, she finished before peeking around. Her closeness changed his attention, angling his head so part of his eyes could be seen. Their cool harshness made her shiver with fear, except being caught in his sight warmed her cheeks. Inside, she could feel what she has known all her life as love in her heart for her sibling, but surging through  _everything_ for the Primus.

Grabbing her arms, he dragged her into the candlelight. Luminescence unnaturally shone in his teal irises. "What if he is dead? What then, shall you do?"

Just the thought sent a wave of anger over her fright, a feeling encouraging terrible wants and impatience. While trying to head for the doors, she moved the hood over her head, but the Primus held on tight. "I love my brother, but I'll make sure they don't see the light of dawn for what they've done to him."

"That's where we differentiate, you and I. Love weakens you. Kill because  _you_  need to. As if your very soul depends on it! You will slay for your sake, your survival--you are the one in trouble, not him. If he dies, at least he is spared from the struggles of life. I saw Jabari and his acolytes enter a cellar next to the eastern wall. You'll see it near a brazier. Now go... Do what you must, Charahza."

She halted at the entrance. "You're encouraging me to murder your own people?"

The Primus chuckled. "They aren't  _my_  people."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They aren't his people, they're Charahza's. Referring to humanity. Lucion just wants to see proof of whatever lies within her... even if it means destroying his entire organization--which of course, I'm sure they could easily rebuild.


	7. Blood Shard

Hiding beneath a hood, Charahza nervously made a path for the cellar. Stepping into the overwhelming darkness one foot at a time, she ensured that each was a firm and certain placement. Strangely, in the two years living at the Grand Temple, she couldn't recall this place's existence.

Heading further into the moonlit area, she could see dusty shelves and wine bottles with cobwebs. If Jabari hid her brother here, it would be the last place to look.

However, Charahza reached the end. There seemed to be nothing here, so she twirled to get out immediately. Voices could be heard, muffled from behind or under something. This cellar might be the right way, but how could she find them?

_Perhaps there is a secret somewhere that continues the length of the cellar._

Taking her hand around the walls, she smoothed over each brick for anything out of place. After moving from the opposite and the right wall, she pushed on the left--where a piece of stone shifted.

A makeshift door opened to a narrow passage leading down. Cautious in keeping herself undiscoverable by whoever could be below, Charahza descended without a sound. A stench in the air forced her to cover her nose, but it only made it harder to breathe as the walls tightened. Freezing temperatures created a mist from her mouth until natural light disappeared. What seemed like a draft blew out her candle, leaving her blind.

But she didn't stop. She couldn't. By the time she could feel the ground straighten, someone's ragged breaths ahead startled her. There was a lit torch on the other side of a small door, from where the sign of trouble conspired. Luckily, a short blade with a golden hilt caught her eye. She grabbed it before anyone could see her.

Holding it close, she readied herself to strike. There was nowhere to hide, her only resort an offensive move. But as the door swung towards her, she froze. Every inch of her shook from the cold and horror, yet her blood boiled at the sight of Dialon acolytes. They'd take her too if she didn't act.

The men walked right past her--no,  _through_ her. Instead of wasting her thoughts on the logic of what happened, she made a run for the connecting room. In the center sat a bloodied Bertram, chained to a wall.

"Hello?" Red dripped down his chin, a minor stream nothing like the mess made of his torn chest. "Is someone still there?" His voice cracked.

Falling to her knees, Charahza burst with tears. "Bertram... It's me." He looked at her with one wide eye, though not at her face. "Can't you see?"

His face crumpled up to cry out, "Someone. Please... Help me. There are unspeakable things down here... I don't know what haunts me..."

"Bertram! I'm here, I'm here!" She checked his ears for any damage, and though one eye looked terrible, there was no reason for him to not be able to notice her.

She removed her hood. Lo and behold, her brother's face brightened up with a smile. "Sister! How did you get here? It was as if you came from the very darkness around! Please, you have to get me out of here! You must break the chains."

"Alright, alright, I'll try." After searching around, the only thing she found was a loose stone. "Here. The hard surface could break apart the links." She slammed it on the chain. Little progress happened with three times. Bertram coughed up fluid when she was about to hit again. "We will get through this, brother. Just you wait. You were always there for me when I needed you most. Now it's my turn."

He strained a laugh. "Well, sister. I wasn't there enough. It could have made a difference... Perhaps. Perhaps we could have lived somewhere else."

Charahza broke the first chain, and Bertram wearily moved his left arm. "Almost there, brother! Then we will leave this place. Together."

 _Thirst for their pain as they have done unto you_ , whispered the feminine voice from before.

Ignoring it, she continued to hammer at the last chain. The sound of men's crushing boots rushed the speed of the rescue.

_Turn your sorrow into thorns._

"The entrance was open," a distant acolyte yelled. "It has to be the handmaid, come to get her brother!"

_There is no more peace. No more light. Only the power to hollow out your morality._

Landing the stone on the fourth try did not break it. Time ran up as one of Jabari's acolytes seized her. "I got the witch!"

Charahza struggled and bit at their grasping hands as they brought her back up. "No! Let go of me! Let go of Bertram!" They tugged at her clothes and shoved her outside. She growled and screamed, but her efforts failed. The more she tried to get free, the more her rage seethed, throwing the men holding her off balance. When it was ready to explode, an acolyte punched her in the head, causing her to go unconscious.

Her eyes opened to the Primus, with the acolytes still holding on. High Priest Jabari spoke from behind. "We found her dallying around the exterior of the walls, trying to escape her duties as handmaid. Somehow, she even stole your robes, as I can see from your  _informal_  wear."

Sitting on the throne underneath triangular moonlight, the Primus did not appear enthused. From the hidden look in his eyes, she could tell he was only about to cover up the mess for her sake. His fingers pressing against each other, he spoke only to Jabari. "It matters not what she does in leisure at this time. She is free to roam, so long as she returns for the morning. My robes however, is another story. It is a mistake she will  _not_  make again." He gestured for them to release her.

The acolytes dropped her before beginning to leave, with Jabari remaining. Her knees hit the harsh floor, making her cry out.

The old man scoffed, shaking his head at the girl's weakness. "I may depart?"

The Primus stood over them, but cast a menacing glare at his high priest. "Yes."

After silence befell the temple, Charahza collapsed into what seemed like an eternal nightmare.

Engulfed in an obscuring fog, she tried to find her brother. His whimpers came from every direction, and the rattling of metal sounded far away. A shadow passed her sight, and in thinking it was Bertram, she followed it.

Then there were thumping noises, heavy feet running from her. What she thought a man before no longer appeared the same size. Looming over like a giant tower, it peered down at her with burning orbs. A jagged string for a tail moved side to side, like a dog excited for its meal.

The creature did not pounce, rather it waited for something. Finally, it turned around and aimed straight for a much larger silhouette. Keeping behind the silent monster walking with ungulate legs, she could tell it wanted to show her something as it often glanced back to make sure she was still there.

Stopping before a cliff, the haze cleared to a vivid expanse of rock and ruin. On the opposite side of a former battlefield erected an enormous crystal. A gust of wind threw her backwards, her exposed feet stepping on sharp shale. Every part of the ground was covered in red stone. There wasn't a place to safely stand without her bleeding flesh being cut.

A hooded woman appeared in front of her. Though she had a feminine form, her clothes did not look of human making. The edges of her dirtied white tabard cindered, and her face replicated that of the deepest pit. Not only did she float, but writhing threads of lazuli blue and black protruded from her back.

Her ominous voice rang with deep vibrato. "Mortal. Here may not be your reality, but it is mine. Here is where I rebelled, where I was once known as Uurizael. Here is where I fought for the very reason you exist." With a wave of her armored hand, the vision transitioned to an entirely different place with the crystal's position unchanged--however familiar with trees and rivers. "Sanctuary. Your world. Here is where I was slain... I protected the one I most cared for, hoping for a better future. I was wrong. I was blind. Weak. I could not save him, and as the Queen of the Succubi damned my spirit, I have felt nothing but an eternity of suffering. I was of the first to feel her wrath... The results of her greed for control."

Charahza couldn't be sure of what was being said, but somehow she could empathize. "Why are you telling me this?"

"The stone you see across this valley--a  _piece_  of it holds but a sliver of my partner's blood and my essence, and  _it_  is within you, mortal. All that I am is part of you. You have the power to unleash vengeance. Do not sulk and let be. Do not give in to feeling lost. Turn to your foes in knowing what they have done can not be accepted. Do as I would and show them the  _true_  face of despair."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am deeming it a blood shard - a vessel of mystery and unknown origin that seems to contain the essence or soul or blood of a demon (like in canon.)
> 
> "Some believe they are shards of the Worldstone, still others think them fragments of trapped demon souls, while a few are sure they are the crystalized blood of the ancients themselves." - Diablo.wikia
> 
> Though, Charahza's "blood shard" also contains the essence of a corrupted angel, Uurizael. In my little twisted fan-alteration, each sliver or shard was created to keep the rebellious within a small realm for eternity to suffer and at the pleasure of Lilith. Of course, she still killed many of them, but Uurizael and her partner were of the first to experience a different fate.


	8. Urge of Flesh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part where it should be obvious that Charahza and the Primus are weak in a sense. Sin is normal to him, but they both want a new taste... (Don't worry, nothin' graphic.)
> 
> This part was inspired by the examples found in Birthright, where he allegedly enjoys the company of handmaids/nephalem/human women. 
> 
> If you haven't read Birthright (the official book that is technically outdated in lore/designs now) and care about Birthright spoilers, then do not read the note below!
> 
> And later, we find out that he would pledge service to Uldyssian for his life, showing that he is indeed a weak demon despite being the son of the Lord of Hatred himself. In this way, the Primus seems to be similar to his sister, a temptress that enjoys the company of men (even though they are technically her spawn... but that doesn't matter to a sinful demon...)

A twilight ray in Charahza's eyes woke her from the dream. Over her was a set of warm covers, crafted with light fur and woven with decorative material. She let loose a yawn before realizing the nature of the situation... and that her brother still waited to be set free.

Adrenaline forced her upwards and into a panic, but her breathing slowed at the whisper of the Primus. He must have been talking to himself, or maybe someone else. Listening to him converse, only silence came from the other end. "I was so sure she'd do it." Upon entering the quarters, she quickly closed her eyes in pretending to be asleep. "Ah, you're awake." She sighed at the failure, sitting up as he folded his arms. "You're lucky they didn't tear up my robe last night. But they did get blood on it. In case you're wondering, you're still wearing it. In  _my_ bed."

She awed at his ridiculous concern, ignoring his remark on where she slept. "You're worried about that? I need to go back. Bertram is still down there. They lied to you! Can't you do something about it this time?"

He smirked, and with a smug reply, "I visited him. They know now that I know, and won't be hurting him."

With a fiery speed, she rolled out of bed and marched over to the Primus. "And why not? How come you leave him there?"

"Because I have to." Frowning and as well as glaring, something changed in his eyes and in the way he now inched towards her. In doing so, Charahza bumped into the bed, having no more room to keep away. "If you try to escape with him again, there's still the chance you'll die. I'm not ready for that. I'm ready to know the truth, Charahza."

Tears welled up at his intimidation. "What truth?"

He drew long canines near her bare neck. "I can sense something off about you. You hide quite the aura, but I know it's there whenever you are near me. Tell me now. Are you what I believe? Are you so keen on hiding what you truly are? A mere demon after the control of my ploy?"

Unsure of what to say or think, she kept quiet.

The Primus chuckled. "I see you refuse to answer. No matter. Seems I must force the truth out of you."

Ripping at the robe enough to see her scar, he then pressed a hand against it. An icy blade ruptured from between the collarbone, making Charahza scream. The Primus immediately removed his hand and stepped back to comprehend what it was.

After regathering a stable breath, Charahza rested on the bed. Feeling around her neckline, confusion wept across her face in stopping on the red shard. "What... What is this?" Its multi-faceted surface reminded her of a jewel.

Emotionless and still as a statue, the Primus could only stare. "How interesting."

Thoughts suddenly struck a wall, and she no longer paid attention to the present. They switched to a wrath never known before. With the high priests and their acolytes in mind, she clutched at her head with digging nails. The blood in her ears pulsed vigorously, driving her to madness. There was nothing to cease the internal chaos, so she leaped for the doorway. Beyond it, a set of stairs leading down to the sanctum. And from there, she'd give her enemies a taste of their own medicine. She'd torment them, break them, make them wish for mercy. But mercy, she'd give none.

What threaded from the angel's back in her nightmare sprouted from her own, the tendrils exposing a ripped gown beneath as the robe landed on the floor. Before making it outside the room, the door shut without anyone physically interacting. Growling at the disruption, she turned to the Primus. He did not watch in horror, rather in delight by his large smile.

Pouncing on him, she hissed. "I want... to save... my brother! I will  _kill_ them!" None of what she tried to present as her own daunting manners affected him, but in the reflection of his eyes she could see nothing but an infuriating red. With the darkness taking hold, she needed to find a way to manage her hatred before it consumed her. If she let it, her anger may even get Bertram killed.

In the heat of the moment, only one solution could bring her to a temporary peace. Whether it was the extension of her real heart or the corruption of sin, her draining reality couldn't be sure.

Her lips found the Primus's, possibly a shocking move that he did not expect as for a second he jerked away. But even he couldn't resist sin, and took a liking to the lustful aggression. Drawing away, Charahza asked a bemusing question riddled with a demoness's touch. "Do I still serve the Primus, or a man that wishes for my death... like all the others?"

"Neither," he answered bluntly. "You serve Lucion, my dear Charahza."


	9. Martyr, Futile

"Tonight is a different story," Aviram told Jabari--the old man leaving the trembling boy at the hands of his sadistic brother. He closed the cellar door and with utmost sincerity, gave Bertram a dire look that he'd never return to the surface. The never-changing emotionless expression on the high priest's face chiseled at his hope. It would soon be lost, along with his life.

Bertram spat blood before the man's feet. "Why must you torture me over a mere girl? Over nothing, because I have done nothing. This is not the Triune way, High Priest."

Cackling like the sound of tumbling pebbles, Aviram pressed the tip of a barbed whip up to his chin. "Don't be such a fool. We've been eyeing you for a while now... You aren't as innocent as it all seems."

Through strands of damp blonde hair and with ice in his heart, he eyed the priest. "What are you saying?"

He stroked the weapon, feeling each sharpened part with the end of his finger. After passing a few, one nicked at his skin with ease. A thin crack of red strung down, but Aviram paid no mind. "Young acolyte. Bertram... Is it not clear? You are the very reason the Triune has come to this. Our initial goal was to protect and show humanity that they can depend on us. If not for us," he paused for a shrug. "Evil would find its way into the world. Pure evil." Coal eyes never turned from his victim, as if they devoured all sources of light and the acolyte.

Shaking his head, Bertram denied that such a thing could be true. "It doesn't exist. Except for in the hearts of men. Like you."

"Oh, but it does! And even though I may appear evil, I must be if I am to punish... no,  _destroy_... the wicked! You my dear friend, are a prime example." He raised the switch with satisfaction, a smile across his lips. Bertram neither winced nor moved as the whip slashed at his flesh, flaying skin and cloth. Blood trickled down, and with each hit he received, the amount grew until it became a gruesome puddle of pain. Beginning to slow, it came to his attention that the lack of reaction seemed unusual. It wasn't that long ago when he was pummeling at the sulking boy's face.

Their outward emotions had reversed. "You are resilient," he stated while hitting harder--enough for the need to pull the barbs out. "I believe you have accepted your fate and acknowledged your sins, yes? Just you wait until I can capture your sad twin sister. I'm sure her sins are just as much as yours in number!"

Crimson oozed onto the dirt floor beneath Bertram's broken body. Though he should have been shaking, crying and sweating, there was not a sign of either. He simply sat in silence with the most bizarre look, as if cursing the high priest and enjoying fictitious vengeance imagined inside.

Aviram struck the situation as curious, but maddening. Instead of questioning him--or opening his mouth to speak for that matter, he dropped the whip. When the metal slapped against the ground, he shivered at the sight of lengthening shadows. The fire that maintained visibility flickered, forcing his eyes to strain and brain to think it was nothing but a breeze that caused it. So below and beyond a tight door, the concept was assuredly impossible.

The torches died. The high priest hurried to make his next move, but by the time his hand found the door, cinders melted the bottom of his tremoring feet. Immobilized in terror and the pitch black darkness, an intense heat blew at his frozen skin.

A monster grumbled with the hiss of burning steel. "My sins are immeasurable. But  _surely_  my hundreds do not compare to the one  _you_  just committed?"

Afraid for his life, he ran out the door--stumbling over fear and crashing into walls. Ascending up in a blaze, he tripped and fell, but the fight for survival forced him onward. He could make out glimpses of moonlight as he neared the top, and as he pushed the cellar doors, he could see the rest of the Triune standing at the base of the temple.

"The acolyte is an evil creature," he frantically yelled before repeating again. "The acolyte is an evil creature! Evil is at our doorstep! We've been fooled!"

Making it to just an inch before the first set of stairs, something stung between Aviram's ribs. A fire erupted from within. Air escaped his lungs and fluid burst from his choking throat. Struggling to breathe, he grabbed at his neck as if trying to pull the very necessity back inside.

A golden hilt released the dying man from its blade, letting him drop to shattering knees. Above did his gaze slowly find his killer. He expected it to be the monstrosity from the cellar, or at least one of the other high priests who would have been disappointed in his weakness. Finding neither, Aviram's last moments concluded with peering into yet again the eyes of the fierce--this time a woman's vindictive stare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charahza's blood is also Bertram's blood. Because Uurizael "blocked" her mate from possessing her, he was able to possess Bertram instead. Spilling his blood through torture acted as a catalyst, mainly angering the demon within.


	10. Master

With a crushing high-heel boot, Charahza slammed down on the fresh corpse of Aviram. Kicking the body towards the crowd of hopeless acolytes, it caught a moment of air and rolled up to their shaking robes.

"Bring me my brother," she growled under teeth-gritting tension while pointing at the dead High Priest of Bala. "Or all of you will suffer as he has."

None seemed to have the ability to reply, frozen in their tracks. Some refused to look at one of their fallen leaders, keeping their heads facing to the side. Of all the sheep before her, Kaveh remained further away and held his attention to something different. His unusual stance, less of fear and more of a prepared defense, did not annoy her.

But the others--yes, their frightened faces stirred an irritable fire inside. All the trouble they went through to remove her from the temple grounds proved futile.

She moved forward, readying her weapon for the next to die--a man resembling that of the one who took unwilling Bertram to Jabari. "Why do you all stand here without action? Why did Aviram name my brother as if he is a monster?"

"Your brother is gone," he muttered while swallowing down terror. "Evil has taken him. Our teachers were right. We would see it for our own eyes when the time came. That time... is now."

Charahza wasted no time in swiping her blade across his throat, his head tumbling over to Aviram's corpse. "You're all fools!" Groaning at their lack of response and confusing manners, she stabbed another. One after the other, she murdered them. With each being slain, adrenaline and thrill pounded in her chest at an increasing rate. Seething rage enveloped her sight, and the bodies fell faster.

When her blade reached Jabari's neck, he evaded and sent it flying across the courtyard. "And here I thought you were just a simple handmaid. Here to help those who have helped you. It appears I was quite wrong. If only you could see the truth--that  _you_  are undoubtedly a herald of evil. I understand now--you are the reason we exist! You are why we have been fighting each other over nonsense. To break us apart. Separate our connection to the light. I cannot believe that we even allowed you into our Grand Temple! What nonsense there was to even be angered over the service of such! I see what you are now, I do." Glancing to the remaining acolytes, he pulled out a dagger--a gesture that ordered them to follow suit.

The old man twirled around to grab her, keeping her vulnerable and unable to fight back. His right hand tried desperately to slit her throat, but her own managed almost an equal strength to prevent it. The others eyed her heart with their weapons, their blank expressions ready for the end of their foretold enemy. Though none wore a smile or a frown, in their weary eyes was a great foe.

In Charahza's mind came a chilling whisper from Uurizael.  _Can you see that they are afraid? Something quite familiar to me stirs in the dark._

She let loose a maddening wail as one of the acolytes went to slice at her. Stumbling backwards, his dagger met dirt and shallow breaths rose before quickly falling. But as a tall shadow stretched over the hundreds of men, it wasn't difficult to understand it had not been her that caused the spreading panic.

Intense heat exuded from behind Charahza and Jabari, who forced each other to face the ominous visitor. A beast of abnormality and unknown origins stood before them. Jabari must have never before seen the entity from the way he trembled, but Charahza recognized it from her dream.

It furiously swished its tail, bearing the appearance of a long serpent's with spikes large enough to impale three men. Small chains were wrapped around its arms, but the creature's translucent body conflicted with reality as the links swayed between black clouds. Needle-sharp teeth bared at Charahza's captor. As it spoke with grating rock, waves in the air distorted the ember glow from its mouth. "Release her."

Jabari immediately did as it requested and found a place to go insane. Even the handmaid couldn't resist a little fear, but she also wouldn't stop staring at the very chains that once kept her brother from freedom. "What have you done to  _him_?" She dropped to her knees.

The creature ignored her questions and barked another demand, eyeing the center of Charahza's chest. "Give to me  _my_  blood shard."

Shaking her head, she couldn't give it away. It was embedded deep in her body. Any tampering might kill her, but even if she could, there was no doubt that she'd refuse anyhow. She was given power--Uurizael's and most of her partner's power to be exact.

But Uurizael's mate took the place of Bertram somehow, or at least its quiet shade did. Either way, there'd never be another day she'd get to see his gleaming smile, for he had been the only light in her life. Now that the last rays of his kindness dissipated, an icy rancor enveloped her heart.

The wing-like tendrils of Uurizael sprouted from her back, magically without tearing at skin or cloth. As her nails ripped at the soil underneath, the angel's voice broke the silence via the handmaid for a medium. "Do you not remember the day  _she_ gave us all a new way to live? Before shattering it with our deaths along with the rest of our kind?"

The shade appeared to relax, standing upright rather than hunching over in an offensive manner. Tilting its horned head, it muttered her name. "So it is  _you_  that kept me from possession. As you should expect, I do remember. But that time is long gone. We cannot allow this world to exist--not if  _she_ still requires it."

Charahza's face scrunched up, but it was uncertain whether the cold feelings inside were hers or not. "You will its destruction, but she has the key to creation. To change. We must find her and ensure she never obtains it again."

"No," the demon shouted. "That won't be enough. It is better to watch her writhe in anguish at the loss. We must rid her of it all." It roared at the frozen acolytes, but before it could do any damage, Charahza stepped in.

Her wings grasped at the demon, wrapping around its limbs and head. It thrashed around, trying to escape. The more it struggled, the tighter Uurizael held on. "They are not for you to slay."

It growled and choked, but its voice became almost distant as the tendrils squeezed harder. "Then I shall join you, and we will... continue... our war..."

A real body would have been utterly crushed into nonexistence, but the shade's form couldn't take it any longer and fell apart. It became a mist, being sucked towards the blood shard in a quick swallow. Darkness fused with the blue light within, an ever swirling mixture of the essences of a demon and angel.

Around her heart and blood shard, the handmaid could feel the complete warm energy. It filled her with excitement, eager to do whatever sin would please her. It commanded her to play to her heart's content--to let loose every bit of terror, destruction and hatred upon the pathetic souls serving the Triune.

She looked towards them, and in doing so, their feet stumbled over each other in an attempt to run. None would make it outside of the temple's walls with the empowered Charahza downing them with jagged wings and claws. The hundreds littered the ground within seconds, and as the last one frantically hopped over their allies' remains, she threw her blade at the back of his skull. She reached its hilt and pulled it out as his dead body fell at her feet.

Observing the blood bath, every member of the Triune lay cold and dead... except for the two high priests.

Kaveh watched her lick the blood off her weapon. "Charahza. There is something you must know."

She faced the man in an instant with her blade at his heart. No expression of his showed weakness.

"That thing inside you the monster called a blood shard--"

Laughter erupted from the stairs, and as everyone turned to it, they found the Primus clapping. "Well done, my dear! Such beautiful chaos that has ensued here." The longer he laughed, the more his form began to change. No more did he appear human, nor did his voice have a soft effect for charm.

Like the shade of Uurizael's partner, the Primus appeared as tall and strange. Yet, his details were visible and he was skinnier; large horns curved towards the sky, and spikes lined from his back to the very tip of a barbed tail. Tan scales protected his flesh, reflecting a green hue when viewed in some degrees of light. His pale torso exposed tender muscles, a part of his form that not even the wrathful Charahza could look away from. Bone wings made out to be more like long limbs--separate from his normal pair of arms--spread out from his shoulders. They seemed capable of impaling the toughest of stone. As he approached her, heavy hooves clattered.

Lucion gestured towards her with a four-fingered claw. "And it was all caused by you, my  _beautiful_  handmaid." He glanced at Kaveh, who still had no surprise. "Ah, forgive me for interrupting. I had to give credit where credit is due..."

The handmaid pressed steel against the high priest's throat, not giving much for care that she had been intimate with a demon. "What must I know?"

"That blood shard is the only way one of us can even fathom what true power is like... But... it was the Triune's doing. My brother. Your father willed it as he saw to your birth."

"You lie. My father has long been gone since he left my mother before she gave birth. She told me herself."

"But that is where you are wrong, Charahza. It was him that found the blood shard. It was him who placed it within. He served the Triune, and I have ensured your survival. Your ties to this  _peaceful_  community." A smug smile stretched across his face as he cackled lightly. "The first high priests included you from the very start. And look at us now! Torn apart by something so pure and so simple as they believed.  _Hatred!_ And yet they told us you were to be everyone's savior when the face of evil showed itself!"

A hum of contemplation sounded from Lucion. "The  _first_  high priests demanded this?"

Kaveh's face puckered up, but as if he found the entire situation humorous. He no longer sounded like the usual fatherly man, having a raspy older tone. "You're the leader of the Triune, and yet your underlings plotted without your knowing? That the woman 'serving' the second line of high priests wasn't made to be a plain handmaid, but one of the only ones in this world to contain an omnipotent power as the laws have denied? She was meant to be a harbinger of the evils in disguise--one that would aid us in bringing humanity to Hell's side! I am surprised-- _disappointed_ \--that even you failed to see this. You allowed her to murder your entire organization! But it is no matter! For it was  _indeed_  a sight to behold!"

Lucion whispered something about his father, but it was too late to hear any of what was said.

Jabari shrieked out of madness and tackled the high priest of Mefis. Charahza pulled back and observed their struggle, but inside, she was dying to slay them both. The old man desperately tried to choke him. "You backstabber! You fool! You're part of the reason that monster exists! Why the Triune is now gone!"

They swapped positions, Kaveh throwing punches at his face until bits of skull stuck to his knuckles. When Jabari stopped breathing, the victor stood up. Though, as he maintained balance, he found only pain.

Charahza yanked her blade out, but she wouldn't stop there, letting it pierce his body over and over. Blood ran down her hand and splattered on her face. Kaveh let loose a maniacal laugh before his last breath expired. The corpse of her most hated man toppled over.

Satisfied in the destruction of the Triune members, she breathed heavily and licked the blood from her skin and blade. "What is there to do now? Who is there left to kill if the ones who have caused my troubles are gone?" Charahza flipped her blade and stuck it inside her boot.

Lucion laughed, enthralled with her ambition. "In time, Charahza, in time... Perhaps I can offer you a position of... better ranking? A rightful place among Hell, or at least... by my side, and not as a simple handmaid? And  _restock_ the Triune, if you will..." The teal in his eyes flashed red. A sign of possession. "Let us begin anew, and make mankind see where they truly belong. This time, they will surely obey with  _you_  on their minds. Though, we will have to teach them not to tear each other apart--as entertaining as it is."

Charahza, the Maiden of Despair, kneeled before her master, for there was no one else that could change her heart. Especially when the Queen of the Succubi threatens  _her_  world.  _Her_  power.  _Her_  right to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charahza has nothing else to live for. But Uurizael seems to have convinced her that there is another enemy that threatens her life. And she will do whatever she can to achieve revenge for the beings that empower her. Besides, Charahza would not have lived a horrible life if it hadn't been for Lilith. Though, it was the Prime Evils that planned her transformation for the sake of figuring out how to control/destroy the light within humanity.
> 
> Now that they know how to "bypass" the Worldstone's law and that their murderous test was successful, perhaps they should reconsider how they manipulate mankind.

**Author's Note:**

> I thank anyone for reading this, and will gladly accept writing advice/suggestions. Don't bother with critiquing the story, since it was actually written as a warm-up/practice/for fun.


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